


Ration Limit

by SolarasInc



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Armitage Hux Needs His Robe and A Nap, Bottom Armitage Hux, But no Knifeplay, Darth Tantrum and his Evil Space Ginger, Hux's Interior Monologue of Snark, Hux's monomolecular blade, Kylo Kriffing Ren, M/M, Of that kind...mostly, Post-Star Wars: The Last Jedi, Power Dynamics, Top Kylo Ren
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:13:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24493318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SolarasInc/pseuds/SolarasInc
Summary: "'Kriffing Ren,' Hux muttered, bringing a hand up to circle his throat, 'can’t even do something useful with all his nonsense.'”In the middle of Post-Crait clean up, Hux just wanted to spend his down shift dead to the world and possibly intoxicated.  Maybe spend an hour not looking at casualty and cost reports.  And, no, he didn't know how he was going to replace that many Stormtroopers!  But the new Supreme Leader seemed to think catching Hux unawares was the best way to cement their new, ah, working relationship.A smutty tale in three parts of Dramatic Kylo trying to intimidate his General who has reached his limit for Kylo Kriffing Ren shenanigans.No monomolecular blades were harmed in the making of this fic.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 3
Kudos: 39





	Ration Limit

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my distraction from all the things I should be doing! The real smut will start in the second part--just saying :P

“Warning: approaching water ration limit.”

“Override. Authorization: General Hux.”

“Warning: Maximum override limit reached. Please submit medical override or file access request form F-H2OEE.”

“Authorization: General Hux. I approve the request!”

“Please file access request form F-H2OEE and approve.”

“Kriffing—” Hux peeled his face off the shower wall and jabbed the shower controls to ‘off’ before it cut to sonic on him or, even worse, cut the hot water and _then_ cut to sonic. “Kriff,” he muttered again, loathed to relinquish the warmth. 

He felt like one giant bruise. He was one giant bruise. Between Snoke and Kylo Kriffing Ren…

Hux dragged in a painful breath—his jaw a stuck hinge; his ribs a blocked bellows—and hobbled out of the shower like an old man, crooked and creaking. Hux had finally been able to stand down the _Finalizer_ from Emergency Alert and Battle Stations two shifts ago, and, quite promptly, the Chief Medical Officer put a stop to all stim distribution, staring dead-eyed at Hux as she canceled the ‘stims as needed’ ship’s status during the senior staff meeting. Between the push to finish Starkiller, the firing of Starkiller, the aftermath of Starkiller, and Kylo Kriffing Ren (should have left him face-planted on Starkiller), Hux had blasted through his own stash of stims, and he knew going to medical would only result in the CMO gleefully confining him to quarters (she’d confine him to the medbay if it wasn’t full beyond capacity). 

Leaning naked and dripping against the sink, Hux tilted his head to stare at his mottled skin in the mirror. A med droid had seen to the worst post-battle—mending rib fractures while Hux cursed its manufacturers and continued issuing orders from his datapad—but the bruising was still spectacular. 

Hux’s injuries did not rate a bacta tank or extended flesh rejuvenators in the current crisis. Even on a ship the size of the _Finalizer_ (maybe especially on a ship the size of the _Finalizer_ ), the medbay was not equipped to handle almost a star destroyer’s full complement worth of wounded. Half the doomed Supremacy had been evacuated—never mind survivors from the rest of the ravaged fleet (another clipped but stable ship was currently a floating morgue). 

Death had been too swift for Holdo. If Hux was a want-a-be Sith, then he would use all that hand-wavy _space_ - _wizardry_ to resurrect the woman and kill her more slowly. 

Maybe with a sarlacc. 

“Kriffing Ren,” Hux muttered, bringing a hand up to circle his throat, “can’t even do something useful with all his nonsense.”

Hux tightened his fingers slightly before letting go. To him, the bruising around his throat was surprisingly minimal and not at all hand shaped. The med droid had beeped something about interior swelling and under the skin bruising, but Hux felt… _cheated_ didn’t seem quite right, but, surely, there should be more to mark such a colossal banthakark in events. 

His back and side, however, were a livid array of blues, purples, and one particularly black scattershot (in the shape of exterior camera controls—Hux should know as he redesigned them) over his right kidney from his abrupt relocation into the Walker’s console. 

He should have taken the shot. Ren had always been a pain in his side (if not so literally). He should have taken the shot. But with Snoke a pile of meat on the floor and _everything_ on fire and venting Holdo-be-karked atmosphere, Hux had hesitated, had fallen back on their usual, their familiar, empty threats. 

But Snoke was a pile of meat on the floor. 

Hux closed his eyes, breathed out through his nose, and grabbed a towel to wrap around his waist. But his slow and hunched exist from the ‘fresher, his thoughts of tea and pain killers, his thoughts of Chandrilan raava and pain killers all stuttered to a stiff halt. 

He hadn’t turned on all the lights in his quarters. They were still in orbit above Crait—he saw it out his viewport and an unmistakable silhouette (even bucket-less) before it: Kylo Kriffing Ren holding the monomolecular blade Hux kept under his uniform sleeve (not to be mistaken for his weightier knives kept in his boots and greatcoat lining).

A quiet, repeated _snick_ —a sound that would be quite muffled by clothing—seemed wholly and stiflingly loud in the semi-dark room. Hux stood exposed in the light of the ‘fresher, while the blade caught, reflected, and gleamed. Hux would rather Ren held his own lightsaber. 

“I’ve traced its presence under your sleeve many times,” Ren said from his seat at Hux’s small dinette table, a luxury he allowed himself—eating in front of the viewport. “With the Force, of course,” Ren added in a casual and off-handed way that Hux knew for falsity. Ren was the antithesis of such things. Nothing but a credit-chip hack and slash holonovel with disproportionate levels of wailing drama for the situation.

Ren triggered the spring release again ( _snick_ ), set it back, triggered ( _snick_ ), set, triggered—the blade didn’t move. For a moment, a swell of well-worn annoyance bubbled: Ren broke [insert ship object here]. 

“I always wondered if you would pull it on me,” Ren continued, raising a hand—his silhouette shifting—followed by the slow grinding sound of the spring mechanism as the blade extended with Ren’s controlled motion. 

“Must you break all my things?” Hux sighed before he could think better of it. He needed a pain med, a sleep aid, a drink, and not necessarily in that order or separated by any healthy length of time. “Supreme Leader.”

“Don’t fret, _General_.” Kylo rose and stepped towards the light. 

Maskless, as Hux had surmised, and dressed down in his padded jacket and tunic—no billowing angst robes this shift. Hux would have preferred the mask and robes, preferred the stomping tantrum he thought he understood. He would have preferred to be wearing more than a towel right then.

“Has it seen much use?” Kylo asked.

“I did make it to General. Intact,” Hux retorted and shifted backwards, intent on grabbing his black and red bathrobe—a ridiculously soft thing with the First Order symbol on the back that (officially) he never ordered from an intranet contraband shop he (officially) didn’t know the junior officers were running.

Ren huffed—more air than sound, but a laugh, nonetheless—and moved into Hux’s space. Not holding, but halting Hux all the same.

“I suppose if you ever gut me with this, get through my awareness,” Kylo paused, Forcing the blade back into its setting, “you will have earned it.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed this and are looking forward to Part II! It's always a good day for Kylux!
> 
> The rest is drafted and just needs revision. The boys keep talking, so I keep editing the banter down, adding it back, and repeat. I may post it later today or tomorrow, depending how long work keeps me away. But I felt like a longer pause was needed at the end of what is now Parts I & II--like a held breath--and not just a paragraph break, so utilizing the medium here: three part post as opposed to a longer one-shot.


End file.
